I Won't Say His Name
by Mrs.Mellark101
Summary: She doesn't like crying. Because it's just a weakness. But she does it anyway. Because she can't stop herself. So when her friend goes into the hunger games…and it isn't just any friend it's…the guy, that every girl looks for…so yeah, when he goes into the games, there's a whole lot of crying
1. A Not-So Wonderful Life

I Won't Say His Name

Summary- She doesn't like crying. Because it's just a weakness. But she does it anyway. Because she can't stop herself. So when her friend goes into the hunger games…and it isn't just _any _friend it's…the guy, that every girl looks for…so yeah, when he goes into the games, there's a whole lot of crying.

**Chapter 1 – A Not-so Wonderful Life**

Blossom trees. Like the ones that Old mindless Mark paints. I feel sorry for Mark, I really do. No-one's there to give him tessarae, but that's not his fault. It's no-one's fault that Milly died when she was 4 months pregnant. It's no-one's fault that Mark grew old, not daring to love anyone else.

But apparently, it's _me and my ancestors _who get blamed for the biggest torment that life can throw at anyone.

_**The Hunger Games**_

What's the point of that stupid propo at the start of the reaping? I mean, seriously, like anyone's goanna believe that it's _their _fault that 23 people will die in the following weeks to come.

I seriously think with all my head –my heart had no part in this because hearts are only useful when it comes to keeping you alive- that one day this will all be gone. The arenas. The stupid Capitol people with their stupid rainbow wigs. By the way, what is up with them? They're always acting like they're having the time of their lives and it's like…is life really that great? You can bear to watch innocent children probably as young as your own get slaughtered?

But yeah, one day this will definitely end, because I know it will. It's like one of those chills. A Feeling In Your Bones. But yeah, according to Brandy (the popular girl at school) I'm just a 'crazy anti-social freak' so you don't have to listen to me. But, geez, Brandy is like, the needles that you sit on, that stupid picking-their-nose kid sitting on the naughty step. Sometimes, it's just like, why? Yeah, she's pretty, your like, ohmigod you are amazing! But then she's like, oh you didn't have to say I already knew. There's no point to being snarky in a place like this. District 4 won't give you any favours. When you're 19, you can relax a little, you know, cause The Hunger Games isn't a threat to you individually anymore. Then you have kids. What then? You're going to worry about them.

*REAPING DAY*

I wake up with a jolt. "HARRY, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" I yell at my 8 year old brother.

"Why? I was waking you up! You weren't waking up!"

"That isn't a reason to throw milk over me! Go and explain to mum why we won't have any left for this weekend's breakfast. NOW!"

Not that was a problem for me. I hated oatmeal. Without milk I have an excuse for the 'I'll pass, thanks'.

Then Taylor, my older (19-year-old) sister walks in as Harry runs out.

"Tough morning, Bails?"

"Were you expecting it not to be or something?" I hate it how she calls me Bails. It's Bailey. Full stop.

"Just trying to make it easier."

"How can it be any easier? Be realistic, Taylor, please, for once. Don't be like mum or dad. I'm 16. I have three reapings left to face. Don't act like it's all ok."

"I got through all my reapins remember?"

"Yeah, well a lot of people do. And you took less tessarae then me. When I turned twelve more of the tessarae was put on my side because I had less chances of being picked. How is that fair? When you turned twelve, you got tessarae for you, me, mum, dad and chloe. I have to do it for all those and Harry. And I've got no-one to share it with!"

"You've got Chloe!"

"I don't want to be like you! I don't want to put the weight onto a twelve year old! Get out now!" She storms out. I get dressed into an elegant, flowy, pale pink dress. On the hem and sleeves me and mum sewed on lace roses. She did most of it of course, since I was eleven at the time. Chloe walks in.

"Don't make me shout at you too."

"I want to get there early, it's my first reaping. I can't take breakfast."

"Neither can I, but are you sure you want to leave…early?" When I was twelve, I was far from ready, let alone eager.

"Let's go."

"Ok, ok, you're choice…let's see how pretty you are. Come into the light." She stepped gingerly next to the window and I took in her daintiness. Her buttercup yellow dress had a thin frame but was baggy on her. It looked all wrong. But she liked it because it was the only yellow thing in her wardrobe. (hint, yellows her favourite colour and always has been.) "You look wonderful! Twirl for me darling." I said the last bit in a capitol accent and she giggled as she twirled. The dress was absolutely hideous. But I didn't care. Not today. Maybe when she's older I can teach her how to choose clothes properly.

"Let's hurry. I want to be there before it's too crowded."

"Your wish is my command."


	2. It's Been A Bad Day

Chapter 2 – It's Been a Bad Day

I don't bother calling out goodbye to anyone. I briefly nod at Taylor as she walks past the door and catches my eye, but after that my eyes look at the ground. I slam the door shut behind me so that they'll know we're gone and I take Chloe's hand. She hats it away while saying; "I'm not a baby, it may be a reaping but I'm not a wimp. I'll get through this."  
Her certainty shocked me but I just smiled and replied; "Me too, Chloe, me too."  
As we got closer to the town centre, I noticed people looking through their windows, already grieving before anything had happened. A few of the old people wallowing away in drink, looking out the windows, have grief for the memories they have of people getting sent to their deaths. Most of them had friends that went in.  
And never came back.

We reach the town centre and only then do I realise how much I'm shaking. If I was 12, and Chloe was 16, everyone would believe it. Here I was, acting like a childish whiner, and Chloe was walking with her head held high.

I kneel down on both knees and look into Chloe's eyes, searching for some sign of fear. I found a scratch of doubt, and that was enough.  
"Bailey, what are you doing?"  
"Are you scared? In any way. Any way at all."  
"No! I told you I'm not a baby, I'm not scared! Why can't you except that I'm brave?"  
"Because I remember being 12. I remember my first reaping. I would've rather seen the shame in fathers eyes when he found out that I had caught nothing on my week long fishing trip - and trust me. That was bad. But, the reaping, was so much more worse then that. I don't believe that you're not scared. We might make it, yes, through every single one of our reapings. But it doesn't mean we wont be scared about them."

"I'll deal with my feelings by myself!" Then she ran to the group of 12-year-olds. I took my eyes off her for one second and when i tried to find her in the already-big crowds again, i couldn't.

"Oh, Chloe..." I whispered under my breath.

I absent mindedly walked towards the group of 16-year-olds. 30 slips had my name on them. My breath quickened and I felt someone nudge me. I turned to see Liane, my best friend, standing there.

"How many times is your name in?" I asked, even though I already knew she had far less then me. She had only taken tessarae for herself. Her 18-year-old brother had taken some for him and their mother.

"10 times. You don't have to tell me how many times you-"

"30 times. I have a feeling that I can't shake...it won't be me. But i'm still scared because it's just a feeling...and, oh, I just don't know."

"Hold my hand, Bailey, please. If you get called, i promise not to let go."

"Thank you."  
It should've felt good for someone's hand to be there, reassuring. But it didn't feel good, at all. Somehow it made me feel more alone. My chest felt constricted and I was struggling to breathe. The crowds got bigger and bigger, and I began to see people having to stand on the porches of their homes. In some parts, the crowd seeped into the streets leading away from the town centre, but that wasn't unexpected. District 4 wasn't exactly a small district, but our town centre definitely was.

~BOOM~  
Everyone covered their ears and some young children were on the floor crying, the frightening boom adding to their feelings of anxiety.  
"Oh! Sorry! Just testing the microphone!" Went the ever-enthusiastic voice of district 4's very own escort; Melony Telony. I feel Liane's hand go all sweaty but I don't care. A nudge to my shoulder wakes me from my thoughts. I turn to see David Heartwick, the most perfect guy ever. A few years ago a big milestone for me was that he knew my name. But now? He's a great friend, and he probably will never want to be more then that. But back to being friends...him, Liane, Tom (Thomas Menny) and I are one group. Those three are the best friends you could ask for. But now, at the reaping, my emotions are on 500% overtime and its all I can do not to shout I love you.  
"Are you ok?" He discreetly whispers,  
"The weathers alright." I reply, not wanting to talk about it.  
"It's not just you that's scared, it's everybody."  
"Try telling that to Chloe." My eyes flicker upwards to the stage and see Melony miming along to the ridiculous propo that has just begun. Obviouslyy (and thankfully) I missed her over-preppy welcome speech.  
"Look, is there anything that will get you through these years? It's the same every year."  
Tell me you love me. I think. "Nothing, it's a reaping. If I get chosen I was wrong to be brave."  
The propo ends and Melonys voice thumps at over District 4; "Now for the main event!" She briefly twirls in her extravagant dress - a hot pink thing with layers and layers of blood-red lace and frill. She laughs into the microphone when she stops twirling, and I see her try to re-adjust her violet wig without anyone noticing. Her face is completely white, apart from the generous coats of red lipstick that I assume are supposed to, as they say in the Capitol; "bring out your eyes."  
"Who shall we have? Boys or girls first?" She raises one eyebrow in a perfect cartoon character arch and her hands are out questioningly.  
District4 is deadly silent.  
"You 4's sure know how to spoil fun! Lets have the...hmmm...girls!" Liane's grip tightens on me, and I feel David take my other hand. Where ever Tom is right now, I hope he's okay to. I look to David, and he's facing the ground, which only lets me see his golden-brown hair. I wish for a glimpse of those stunning blue eyes, or the tanned face that's always smiling.

Melonys hand flicks around in the bowl for what seems to be forever. She picks out a slip and I force myself to look away, burying my head in David's shoulder as I do. I feel Liane move to hug me, but I can't see anything, my world is blurry.  
"Maya Capricorn."  
I exhale. It's not me. It's not me. It's actually not me! I have no idea who maya Capricorn is but hey, she's not me, or my sister, or my friend. I try to find her in the crowds somewhere and I can't find her but I sense the crowd moving in different directions, creating a circle around her. I spot her on the other side of the town centre. She looks about 13, but I can't say anymore as her head is down, revealing to me only long blonde hair.  
"We got through it, David." I say.  
"You have. Not me, not yet."  
With a jolt I realise that I was stupid not to think about Tom or David or anyone of my friends that are guys going in.  
"I'm so sorry, David, I was just thinking of me and-"  
"Don't be sorry, this whole thing isn't your fault." I hug him and bring Liane in, reluctantly sharing my David hug.  
"Now for the boys! Which brave, lucky young man will be this years tribute?" Her high heels loudly click amongst our silence. She strides over to the boys slips and I nearly faint. I'm not actually sure why. David only has 10 slips in, like Liane, and Tom only has 5. I see many other people shaking their boots, and doing the same thing as us; clinging to people so that if they got called someone wouldn't let them go.  
"Let's see..." Her hands dives in, and with a flourish of her hands, is out again, holding up a slips with one very unlucky boys name on it. She peels it open and I look away and hug Liane and David even tighter.

"David Heartwick."  
"NO!" Is the scream mine? Liane's? David's mum? One of his brothers maybe?

It's him...It's actually him...

I was told later that I fainted.

**-Just saying, if the description of David wasn't that good, I picture him like Matt from The Vampire Diaries. **


	3. Love

Chapter 3 - Love

_- "Some hearts you can love deeply, but they will never be able to return any form of it."_

When I come round I'm lying down with my head rested on Liane. Three people crowd me, lightly patting my head trying to bring me to consciousness. I batted away their hands and saw David up there, next to Melony. I propped myself up on my elbows so i could see better. I saw the two tributes shake hands. I started to get up but Liane pushed me down;

"Don't! I have to go!" People turned to look at the sound of my desperate plead. I got up and ran towards the stage, oblivious of the on-lookers. He looked down at me... "You can't go, you can't!" my whisper sounded like it was coming out of a mad woman, but I couldn't care less.

I felt arms come from behind me and try to take me away. I turned to them, struggling away, and said; "Get off me!"

I looked back at David and I couldn't read his expression. "You know I have to." His whisper was only meant for my ears, and to my ears it only reached.

I thought he was trying to say something with his eyes, but I couldn't understand. I was almost crying. "NO! NO!" I kept screaming. The arms around me got tigheter and i felt myself getting dragged away. I tried taking the hands away, keeping my eyes locked on David. He looked away, at nobody, and I felt a sudden wave of shame.

*GOODBYES/AT THE JUSTICE BUILDING*

I walked in.

"I'm sorry."

"What were you thinking?"

"I couldn't believe it was you!"

"Look, Bailey, I understand. I do, really. You're a good friend! Now I'll never see you again..."

"I love you."

For a moment my throat caught. I couldn't breathe. Did I really just say that?  
No. Of course I didn't. But I did.  
"I-" my voice went. I couldn't find it, or the words.  
"I didn't know." I nearly roll my eyes that he said that. Of course he didn't. How could he? I'm not one for being obvious, and he's not one for paying attention anyway.  
"And you never would've if I hadn't just said it. I had to say it sometime. Because I do. And now, if this is how you end, I probably won't love again."  
"Don't say that."  
"I didn't want to say that either, you know I hate mushy mush. But that's the thing, you, know me. Not like someone you can say hello to in the street. It's me. It's me..."  
"I think you need to leave." Why was he acting like this? Why was he cutting short our final moments together?  
"I won't leave until I have to."  
"Bailey, I'm sorry, but we both know I'm not coming out of there. And...I don't love you. The thought of you and the others might keep me through an hour or so of some sort of pain, but, love? I'm sorry, Bailey, I really am, because you're my closest friend that's a girl. But I don't think it could go anywhere from there. Goodbye Bailey."  
"This isn't you." I barely got the words out of my closed up throat and I ran from my seat and out the doors, crying all the while. I ran past streets of relieved families, and I ignored anyone who tried to stop me running. Eventually I got to The meadow. A place I always thought has secret wonder hidden in between the tulips, magic behind the trees, peace in the air. No-one ever came here. The peacekeepers claimed a while back that a few small wild animals had begun to dig holes under the fence and had got in, but really that was covering up the story of the two runaways. They were shot. While I was playing here. I ran away from home in a bad mood and came here, late at night. I heard noises see the young couple slip under the fence through the holes they had just dug. I was too scared to follow or call out. I saw them run. I saw the girl trip, fall. I saw the blood on her leg. I saw them continue. I saw a peacekeeper obviously recently knocked out, suddenly alert, getting help. I saw the hovercrafts, the shots, the claws.

But now, in the present, I ran to the furthest side of the meadow, -the furthest away from the houses- and sat behind the great oak tree, where I always sit when I'm sad. No-one ever finds me or follows me. They wouldn't even dare.

I can't comprehend what just happened. There's too much to take in. First, the conversation with David. Second, the conversation DEFINITLY counts as two. Third, the realization that ill never see him again. Fourth, the harsh memories flooding back of the shooting of the runaways.  
I turn to face the tree, and peel a bit of the loose bark off, revealing my secret stash of anything and everything. The space is big but I can easily get something out without having to put my whole arm in. Intake out one of the five sharp white stones I have in there. I found out a few months ago that they are good replacements for chalk, one day when I was bored and scraping them along the cobbled street outside my house. With the bark back on the tree, and a stone in my hand, I got up and walked forward to the edge of the meadow. Here was the mayor used to live. He had a small stone house, just big enough for him, his wife and their small twins; Josephine and Marco. They knocked the house down; afraid the wild animals would now breed in it. All that's left are (barely recognizable) foundations. Stone slabs. The ones closest to the meadow have long since been covered in grass and moss. There are two left, next to the fence. I write, in neat handwriting, David.  
Then, in scrawly (unreadable to anyone but me) handwriting, my name.

I go to do more, maybe draw a heart, just something symbolic yet mushy.  
But I don't. Because I hear a voice.  
"Unless my granddaughter has suddenly turned into a stupid tulip, she isn't here! I might be old, but I know my stupid granddaughter when I see her!"  
Oh, grandma, I thought. How I bet you're currently snapping at my other grandma. The one talking-snapping, is my Grandma Patty. She's on my mothers side. On my late fathers side is my Grandma Delly. I should come out, for Dellys sake. Her friend/supposed-crush went ... In. He didn't come out.  
-(this is set as if the rebellion never happened, but Katniss and peeta were alive - they went into the games but Cato won.)-  
There was Dellys voice now; "I'm not saying you don't know what she looks like, I'm saying she's probably hiding."  
I put the stone back in the tree, and make myself visible, waking towards the houses and my grandmas.  
"See! Here she is!" Delly brightly smiled, as she seems to never stop doing.  
"Bailey Thanel! Get over here at once!" Patty shouted. This was the one time when Dellys smile always vanished.  
"If you call her by Thanel one more time don't think I won't-"  
"Won't what Delly? You're 73! What will you do?"  
"I didn't take my husbands surname and you know very well that neither did Eric. And when Eric married your daughter they both took MY name, not my husbands. So Bailey, is officially Bailey Cartwright."  
"We are not having this argument again."  
"Then don't shout at her like that!" Delly waved her walking stick in Pattys direction.  
I stopped walking and put my hands on my hips. "Don't you know I hate to see my grandmothers fighting?"  
"She couldn't fight to save her life." Patty injected.  
"Fine then, arguing. Don't make me send you two to bed early, you know I will."  
My not-so-sunny personality had gone, and back was the Bailey everyone loved and wanted. A.k.a not me. Nothing like me. But that's the main reason why the normal me is usually grumpy. All the real emotions I have get stored up at the back of my mind, while I fake my way through things like happiness. We walk back to the house, me in front, not letting them see my annoyed facial expression. I don't even know why I'm annoyed. This isn't something new, faking everything. But I guess it's that added to the pain from...yeah.

As always I'll just carry on, like everything is fine and normal. But this time is different, the whole of Panem saw what went down. There will be questions. Why? Are you ok? Are you sure? Do you love him? Was it for show?

I won't be left alone today. I have no idea what will happen if his mother and I come face to face. She barely knew me. My name, I was friend of David's, nothing more.  
I have lost him forever. I can't bear to say his name. If people mention him, what should I do? Say that yes, I love him, yes, I know I've lost him, yes, I know all sorts of rubbish reasons why it wouldn't have worked anyway.

What will I do now? I bet that they'll turn that scene I made into something special, that all the girls at home are chasing after David. Not to say that they aren't, but no-one is obvious about it, and really the only girls that like him are the non-popular ones. (I just realized I insulted myself, but hey.) The popular ones are all after Canner Jamezwood. I have no idea why, I guess its just he started out popular and he worked his way to the top.

But back to my crisis. They'll probably get him to say some things about loving me, weather he really does or not. It'll make me feel even worse, hearing the words but knowing there isn't any meaning in them.

We reach home and no-one comments on my little 'outburst'. They probably want to keep my feelings buried, and if it takes that much they'll bury me too.

My family and I have…feelings of resentment. The only people I am close to are Chloe and Grandma Delly. Well, I _thought _I was close to Chloe. But obviously not, after today of her trying to cover up her being scared.

I can't prepare my reactions to any of the questions, because I can guarantee there will be a question that I will never be ready for; Why did you do it?

No-one will want the answer; I did it because I love him.

I will have to work to give them answers, to get _him_ sponsors, to make sure the _he _wins and gets out alive.

I can't say his name. I won't…

_I Won't Say His Name._

Not until I know he is safe, either coming home a victor, or he has been sent up to the sky. If he goes to the sky, I will wait. Wait until it feels right to say it again. But for now, in the current and present tense. Never will I speak his name.


End file.
